


Greets my soul with a silent morning

by unsung_man



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Intimacy, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Multi, Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22604230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsung_man/pseuds/unsung_man
Summary: It was the best silence, a silence of their own, that spoke of care and love, of things that didn't need to be said, because there was no language great enough to express them.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 42





	Greets my soul with a silent morning

It was a sunny Sunday morning in London. The sky was clear and bright, the offices peacefully empty.A sleepy, laid back atmosphere seemed to envelop the quiet streets of Soho as a bell tolled repeatedly in the distance.

If not for the light streaming through the window and the muffled sounds from the streets,the two supernatural beings laying naked on their tangled sheets would have been completely oblivious of the time of day. 

That is to say, they were still pretty unaware of their surroundings as they laid staring at each other, careless about anything that wasn't their bed, their mingling breaths, every fraction of space where their bodies touched. The littered room was set in silence. 

It was the best kind of silence, Crowley thought, his gaze fixed on the angel's eyes, on the way the sun lighted them in an oblique way making them look like bright ice, like broken glass levigated by the water and turned into shiny pebbles. 

It wasn't the silence they had known for most of their eternal lives, the silence of the unspoken, of the fleeting hopes crushed by paralyzing fears, the silence of longing and resignation. 

It was a silence of their own, that spoke of care and love, of things that didn't need to be said, because there was no language great enough to express them.

It was a quietness with a restless quality to it, an equilibrium that could be shattered at any moment to turn the soft embrace into an heated mess, the barely there touches into electrifying ones, the insistent staring in sloppy kisses... but there was time for that, all the time in the world, for now they were content with their silence, their eyes and hands exploring, tracing, committing to memory what was already carved into their hearts. 

Crowley stared unblinking, hypnotized by the way the light caught his angel's curls, the curve of his jaw, the soft hair on his chest. His fingertips were tracing star shaped doodles on the angel's hip without him even noticing, absorbed as he was on the feel of the angel's soft thumb slowly stroking his bottom lip, his pointed jaw, caressing his snake tattoo and leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. 

The demon relished in the touch seeking out the angel plump, perfectly manicured hand, to press kisses to every knuckle and then turning it to kiss the wrist once and again, feeling the steady pulse below his lips, in time with his own heart. 

The angel moved on to stroking his collarbone, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he pressed softly put firmly the spot between neck and shoulder.

Crowley shivered a bit as the hand sank lower and the angel got closer to plant tickling kisses on each of his ribs. He responded by tugging gently at his love's hair, grazing his scalp with the lightest of touches only to be rewarded by a blinding smile and another kiss, and another ,lower, and another as his pupils blowned out and his heart rate picked. 

Outside the lazy morning turned into a chilled afternoon, that turned into a refreshing evening, that turned into a starry night, while two supernatural beings laid in bed, tangled together, existing in the space of their joined hands savouring a silence that belonged to them, as much as they belonged to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Silent morning" by John Evans  
> (G. I hope you appreciate)


End file.
